


Scarecrow

by Torched22



Category: Smallville
Genre: Car Sex, First Kiss, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:02:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22513699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torched22/pseuds/Torched22
Summary: Clark has some conflicting feelings about being this year's scarecrow. Driving past the field where it happened, he can't conceal those feelings from a curious Lex.
Relationships: Clark Kent/Lex Luthor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 61





	Scarecrow

Something was wrong with the world. There had to be. Everything was inside out and upside down and Clark could pin point the exact moment that it all went to hell in a hand basket. He could close his eyes and see it clear as day - a scared, pale face, hurtling towards him in a Porsche. 

In hindsight, being slammed into by a car at 60mph was nothing compared to being told that you were an alien. After that revelation, he wandered around in a daze. It was hard to eat, hard to sleep. He was fully aware of what such a secret entailed and how it could jeopardize himself and everyone he loved. 

The only thing that snapped him out of his terror was saving people. It was as if fate had gotten the memo that he was 'clued in' now...and was supplying him with an endless stream of meteor mutants and people needing saved. It felt good to save someone, and yet, he knew that they wouldn't need saving if it weren't for his ship, for his meteor shower. 'Your fault,' his brain offered up. 

The powers were one thing, finding out about who - what - he was...was another. And yet, that metal-knucled hand of fate had decided he could take more. 

Ever since being strung up as that year's scarecrow, Clark was having a crisis of an entirely different nature. He would go to school, do his chores, do his homework and lay his head upon his pillow at night. Desperately, he wished to steer the direction of his dreams, to control what his subconscious focused on, but to no avail. As soon as sleep overtook him, he was back in that field, shivering, shaking, in pain. And then, as if heaven sent, a familiar voice weaved through the cornstalks, floated towards him, followed by the rays of a flashlight. 

Lex.

"Clark," his named breathed in terror and disbelief. But that's where reality and the dream diverge. In his dreams, Lex doesn't move to untie him. In reality, it wasn't until Clark started having the dreams that his mind's eye caught what his brain hadn't - the depth in Lex's eyes, the desire he fought to conceal behind concern. In his dreams, his own pain was eclipsed by his curiosity and own mounting desire. 

At the time, Clark hadn't been able to pinpoint what the feeling was he had, stripped down and bound to that oversized stake. When he thought of Lana, he felt a warm fuzziness in his heart, a fondness. Well - he felt those things and he felt sick. The necklace. But with Lex...he felt something entirely different, and realized with gaining horror that it was...attraction. When he saw the sharp turns of Lex's steel smile, his insides seemed to coalesce into molten steel. Lex was fast, dangerous, unpredictable, so smart that it was scary. And when he turned his laser-like intensity to Clark, he felt like breathing was no longer an option. 

His dreams were trying to tell him something that his head didn't want to acknowledge. He already felt 'different' and 'apart' from everyone else. He was scared to have feelings for a man. Scared of what that meant. And even more trepidatious because both Pete and his father absolutely detested Lex. 

Unable to wrap his head around all this, Clark tried to stuff it down, to not deal with it. He poured himself into the Torch, he drowned in chores, he suffocated in anything and everything that was not related to Lex.

Unfortunately, Lex had noticed.

Clark had been avoiding him, unsure if he could handle looking into his eyes without growing hard. And when that familiar itch came knocking, he tried so hard to focus on Lana, to think of her glossy hair and sweet smile, the floral waves of her perfume. But it seemed hollow and wrong. With his bedroom door shut and a hand wrapped around his cock, his expression was pained. His mind was offering up images of fine suits, of leather-gloved hands wrapping tightly around steering wheels, of a pink tongue darting to catch the liquid from the crystalline TyNant bottle. 

He was frustrated, and hurting and confused about the whole thing. Alien. Powers. Rapidly developing feelings? sexual obsession? over his best friend. He told himself it was a phase, ignoring the towering mountain of evidence to the contrary. 

"Clark!" his mom called up the steps. 

It had been a particularly mind-numbingly boring day at school and Clark had just finished his afternoon chores. He trudged to the steps and plopped down to the first floor. "What's up?" 

"Lex is here, honey," she said - as if that was totally normal. 

His heart picked up pace. "What? Why?" 

"Are you serious?" she said disbelievingly. 

"You two are going to the premier of that movie," she walked over to the calendar hanging on the pantry door. "You know - that one with the explorer..." she brought a finger up to the day's date. "You guys set this up as soon as the trailer had come out. How could you forget?" she seemed surprised. 

Clark was glad that dad was out working on the tractor. 

"Right, yeah, I didn't forget."

She gave him a disapproving tilt of the head. "Don't you lie to me mister," she wandered back to the sink. "You'd better get out there, his car has been parked for five minutes at least. I thought you were getting ready." 

Shit. Getting ready. He wasn't ready. Panic rose in his throat, until he questioned what 'getting ready' actually entailed for a guy? A different shirt maybe? Cologne? He super sped upstairs and made those changes before appearing once more in a rush of wind. 

"Be careful," his mother whispered. "What if he had come up to he back door?" she tsk'ed. "Well, at least you smell better." 

"Moooommmmm." 

"Go!" 

"Okay," he kissed her on the cheek and opened the kitchen door. Unfortunately, as he strolled towards the new Porsche, his father was exiting the barn and glaring at the car as if it were a two headed goat. He then turned his gaze to his son. "Going to that movie?"

"Yeah," Clark hoped the interrogation would be short. 

"You going with just him?" 

The question was odd and made something turn in Clark's chest. It was as if his father didn't trust his son being alone with Lex. But why?

"Him and a sold out theatre of people," Clark added. "I wish you'd just..." he trailed off, shaking his head, wary of starting a fight. 

"Wish I'd what?" Jonathan was crossing his arms, a glare on his face.

"Trust me," Clark said, rather than the 'trust Lex' that he wanted to say. 

He heard the door click open and Lex was standing at the driver's side door. "Something wrong?" Lex asked. "If it's not a good time...we can see it later.." 

"No, it's all good," Clark smiled, patting his dad on the shoulder before hustling towards the passenger side door. 

Lex and Jonathan were looking at one another. 

"I'll have him back before you know it," Lex nodded, trying to get in Jonathan's good graces. The farmer just huffed some grunt of approval and dropped his defensive - arms folded stance - turning and walking towards the house.

Clark climbed in and so did Lex. 

"Everything alright Clark?" 

The young man nodded, gave a weak smile and answered in the affirmative. Despite not believing him, Lex turned the engine and began swinging the car to exit the drive. 

Already, it was too quiet. 

"I know that your dad doesn't like me."

Clark's head turned to regard his friend, sadness swirling in his chest. He wished his dad did like Lex. Imagine how he'd react to knowing his own sordid daydreams about said billionaire...unknown to him, his face blanched.

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" 

"Avoiding?" the word came out in a squeak. 

"Yeah, avoiding. I call - you're never home. You don't come by the mansion. When I pulled up to the house and you weren't waiting in the driveway, I thought that you had forgotten about the movie."

Shit. 

"If you don't want to hang out with me Clark...you don't have to," Lex had looked over at Clark, who wore sadness like a halloween mask.

"That's not it Lex." 

"Then what is it?" 

Clark bit his lip. "I've just been...going through a lot." 

There it was again, that 'I've got the world on my shoulders,' weight that Lex had come to associate with Clark. At first, he thought it was a teenage angst thing, but he was growing less sure of that. 

"So it's not something I've said? or done?" 

"What?" his voice was again, too animated. "No, of course not, Lex." 

Luthor looked at him before taking a breath, visibly relieved. "Good." 

He settled into his seat more, shifting to hide his mounting arousal. It was too difficult being in such a confined space with Lex who's cologne was snaking up his nostrils. Even concerned, he was...disarming. That soft black jacket that flapped around his knees when he stood outside the car... those butter-soft black leather gloves. He gulped.

"Hey, would you mind if we stopped by the plant real quick? I forgot to grab some reports that I'm going to need to write an email."

"Tomorrow's Saturday..." 

"The work never stops Clark." 

"Yeah, sure, I don't mind at all." 

The words were true, but the delivery was odd Lex thought. He kept glancing over at Clark who never looked quite comfortable. Something was definitely off. Maybe he was telling the truth about it not being about Jonathan, but something was amiss. 

Clark looked out the windshield and with dawning terror, realized that they were going to have to pass the cornfield. 

As soon as he had that thought, he became hard. His hands were in a knot in his lap to hide this fact, and he was biting his bottom lip. His dreams came flooding back to him.... Lex's pale hands, bright and cool as the moonlight, touching his body, running over his abs and clothed arousal. Clark looking down at him, the pain in his arms tempered by the heat in his groin. Lex reaching for his boxers...

Clark was so lost in his thoughts that he failed to realize that Lex had pulled to the side of the road and put the car in park. He finally realized it, head looking right, out the window, then questioningly at Lex. "What...why are we stopped?" 

"Because I want to know what's going on," Lex said openly, the words spoken carefully as if he'd spook Clark. "You can barely look at me. You forgot about the movie. The issue may not be about your dad, but there is an issue, and I can't do anything about it until you tell me what's going on."

Clark swallowed, his hands so tight in his lap that his knuckles were turning white and his pulse laced through his fingers. 

"I - I was just thinking about...being the scarecrow," he said, eyes skittishly looking at Lex who was taking a deep breath. 

"I still think you should have gone to the police," he said darkly. His protectiveness over Clark made heat zip down the teen's spine. 

Lex was still struggling to put the pieces together. Clark's body was coiled tight, his eyes a shade he'd never seen, his voice funny. 

"What about being the scarecrow." 

Clark was looking past him, out the driver's side window. Lex followed his gaze, then returned it. "Oh...we're...this is the field."

"Yeah." 

He nodded. "I imagine the experience was pretty scarring," concern tinted his words. 

Clark breathed in deeply. Scarring wasn't the word he would have used. His eyes involuntarily went to Lex's hand, which was resting on the gear shift. God, he was so hard that it was torture. 

Lex caught the look, and subsequent guilty darting away of his eyes. "How did that make you feel? Being tied up there?" he shifted his hand on the gear shift, sliding it to the side and lower, the same hold he usually reserved for his cock. 

Kent's eyes darkened considerably and his jaw tightened, before he dared to look up at Lex. "I...at first I felt helpless." 

"But then?" 

"You found me." 

"I did." 

"You untied me." 

Lex's nostrils flared and his mind struggled to believe that the signs Clark was exhibiting were related to arousal. Was he hallucinating? Surely, straight-as-an-arrow Clark Kent wasn't thinking...well...the things that Lex hadn't stopped thinking since that day on the bridge. 

Clark's powers chose this time to fuck him with him. He could smell Lex's cologne still, but now there was something else mixed in with the wood and spice tones...arousal. Sharp and sweet. His eyes struggled, flipping into various layers of x-ray, he saw Lex's skeleton, then his heart, pumping quickly, steadily. Then, he could see the surface layer, beneath his clothes, his sight slipping below the belt to see Lex's hard cock, trapped in his tight black slacks against his left leg.

He couldn't help but groan, if that's what it was, it was a noise he'd never made before. He dragged his eyes to the dashboard in front of him. 

"Did you want me to untie you, Clark?" 

Lex's voice was chocolate silk cake with a glass of whiskey on the side. A shudder slid through Clark. He was taking too long to answer. 

Luthor didn't even mean to, but his thumb had gone to the top of the gear shift, and lightly stroked it as he waited for answer. It wasn't until Clark's red lips parted, his hooded eyes locked onto the motion, that he realized he was doing it and stopped. It was not his intention to seduce Clark, it was his goal to figure out why his friend was acting so strangely. 

"No, I...I wish..." he stopped and swallowed, his hands moving to his knees without his conscious knowledge, which revealed his arousal to Lex. Not that it was a surprise at this point. 

"You wish I had left you tied up," Lex finished, "and come closer." 

Kent's eyes slipped shut. "Yes," he whined and shifted, the confines of his jeans now unbearable. It felt like he was going to hyperventilate and die. Part of him was so embarrassed that he wouldn't even mind. "What's wrong with me Lex?" 

"Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you, Clark."

"We're friends though." 

He nodded, "yeah, we are." 

They looked at each other, caught on the precipice of something they couldn't undo. 

"Is that all you want Clark? To be just friends?" 

His head went back to the headrest, twisted towards Lex, he looked like a pained deity. His eyes slid down the curve of Lex's face to his bowed lips, to the long column of his pale neck that disappeared into the blackness. Down his chest, the glint of his belt, the trapped cock pulling the fabric of his pants. 

Fuck. Lex snapped his teeth together. What was wrong with him? He could come undone just from this...just from Clark sliding his gaze over his body. It felt like a dozen hands had just raked down his body. 

"Do you want to be just friends?" Clark asked. 

Lex smiled that shark grin. "oh, no no, I asked you first you sneaky bastard." 

Clark chuckled, relieved to have a break in the tension, before it quickly returned along with the silence. Lex awaiting his answer like a benediction. A blessing or a curse, which would it be?

"I want...things...that I...can't say out loud." 

"Then show me," he was too quick to answer. "Show me what you want. Do whatever you want, Clark. That's what I want." 

A strangled noise was wrung from Clark, who visibly swayed. He undid his seatbelt and Lex did the same. No way was Lex going to make the first move - this was up to Clark. If he wanted it, he could come get it. 

Surprisingly, the first thing Clark did was bring his hand to Lex's on the gear shift. He molded his fingers against the leather gloves that had come to grip the gear shift like a vice. He ran his thumb over the soft leather and brought his left hand to Lex's neck. The skin there was so unbelievably soft and cool to the touch, it was like standing in the moonlight on a clear night. He wasn't sure if he was pulling Lex towards him, or if Lex's face was floating towards him, either way, their heads were tilting, lips meeting. 

To Lex, it felt like dying and being breathed back to life.

To Clark, it felt like being hit with the Porsche and hitting the water with a smack. A jolt of adrenaline, of panic, and then...Lex coughing, staring up at him, relief like a mountain being lifted from his shoulders. He moved against Lex, jolts of pleasure and terror as his tongue was asking for entrance. He granted it, overwhelmed and chasing the taste of Lex, which was pure coffee. His worries about 'being good' were drowned by the mounting roll of desperation. He kissed Lex, until the other man had to move away to breathe. 

Luthor's hand ended up on his upper thigh and he was kissing Lex's neck, that cool, marble flesh with rivers of hot life beating beneath it. "Lex...I need..." he stopped, unsure of how to say it, or what 'it' was that he needed to say. 

"Can I touch you Clark? Stroke your cock?" 

He keened, nearly losing it, nodding and murmuring yes. He watched those black gloves move to his jeans and he craned his hips forward to make it easier. When the button and zipper were undone, he pushed down his pants and underwear to his mid thigh. Lex's gaze on his cock made it twitch and leak. It was embarrassing how easily he was affected by a single look from him. Lex was licking his lips, his left hand moving to undo the glove on his right. Clark made a noise and he stopped. He snapped it back in place and reached for Clark's straining cock. As soon as his hand gripped him, the young man under him strained, squirmed and groaned. 

They gravitated towards one another once more, Clark kissing him feverishly as he blindly tried to undo Lex's pants. Lex was about to tell him not to bother - that he wanted to focus on him, when he heard the fabric rip and felt coolness shimmer over his boxers before it was replaced with the blinding heat of Clark's huge hand. 

It was his left hand, so he wasn't quite as dexterous as he'd usually be, but all that mattered was the feel of Lex's rigid cock in his hand. It pulsed and twitched and Clark broke away from the kiss to tuck his head against Lex's chest and see it - flushed a reddish purple that reminded him of Lex's button downs, of fine wine, of the stained glass at the mansion. Lex was grasping his wrist though, moving his hand away. "I want this to be about you," he said. Clark whined, but he obeyed, letting his left hand return dumbly to his seat. 

"Tell me Clark," Lex's voice broke the panting that filled the silence. "Tell me what you wanted me to do that night in the cornfield."

"Lex...I..."

"Say it," Lex's hand tightened around his large cock. Shit, just seeing Clark like this was...beyond anything he'd ever dreamed. That face, twisted in pleasure/pain, the noises that escaped his tight throat, his huge cock, leaking and responsive to his every twist and press and pull. 

"I liked feeling helpless...as long as you were there," he answered breathlessly. 

A sharp tug, pleasure spiraling through his body. 

"More." 

"I wanted you to...come to me...stare at me until I felt exposed and n-naked. Licking me through my boxers." 

Lex's eyes were closed and he grunted approval. "Then what?" 

"Then you'd pull off my boxers...drag your nails down my thighs..."

"Fuck Clark," he ground, unable to process that Clark had put thought into this...fantasized about this.

"Lick my..."

"Say it," Lex ordered, his gray eyes snapping open to pierce through the younger man. 

"Lick my cock." 

That earned him Lex's other hand going to his balls, rolling them, tugging. Clark's whole body shook and his head felt hot, his eyes stung. 

"And..."

"And you'd...suck my cock...make me beg you to come..." 

"Where would you come Clark?" 

He was dying now, hips rising off the cool leather seat under his ass. 

"My chest...smearing through that stupid...'S'...."

"How about down my throat instead."

The words barely had a chance to settle into his liquid mind and shock him. Instead, he saw Lex craning over him, bringing his head down, lips wrapping around his cock. He screamed Lex's name and gripped the dashboard. All of the air had left his lungs and rational thought was out the door. The need to come was so overwhelming that it was all that existed. His eyes burned and itched and his face felt so hot. His left hand was at the back of Lex's neck, at the knob of his skull, just feeling the smooth skin. Lex's head was moving up and down, his lips drooling onto his gloved hand that was pumping Clark in time with his mouth. The sounds of it were now burned into Clark's brain. 

"Lex I need...have to come...you need to stop so I can..."

Lex only dug his tongue into his slit and chased down the sweetness that appeared there. He didn't taste like any man. So sweet that it could be cavity inducing. Odd, but not enough to jumpstart Lex's rational brain. He twisted and licked, stopping to kiss the column of Clark's arousal, before diving back down as far as he could, which wasn't far considering his size. 

"I'm, I have to, Lex..." Clark keened, but he never stopped. He played with Clark's balls with his left hand and pumped him with his right, imaging Clark writhing beneath him, tied to that cross like a fallen angel. With a cry, Clark came, pouring himself into Lex's mouth, a movement to his left catching his eye. 

Lex couldn't contain the crest of his own pleasure any longer. The second that Clark started coming down his throat, he felt his cock twitch and the rush of hot release. He came untouched, muscles spasming as his cock pulsed, hitting the steering wheel, his hips moving for friction against nothing. 

Seeing Lex come like that only made things worse. Clark felt the rising peak of another orgasm as Lex pulled off of him, thinking it was over. He moved to kiss Lex feverishly, his right hand going to his cock, stroking hard enough to break a human, and fast. Their kiss fell apart as Clark's lips parted and his eyes closed and another orgasm tore through him. He came onto his lap, white ropes of heat jetting from him, Lex's curious eyes trained on him until it was over. And Lex had the bright idea to bend once more and lick his cock clean, before holding up his glove to Clark's mouth. White come stood out against the black leather. 

"Lick it clean," Lex ordered. Clark squirmed, his cock still not soft, his mouth opening. 

As soon as it was past his lips, Lex sucked in a breath and felt his heart stutter. Clark's pink tongue was moving around gracefully, lapping up his own come with enthusiasm before Lex pulled his hand away. 

Clark was sweet as honey on his own tongue. He looked over at Lex, who appeared throughly wrecked, not dissimilar to how he looked that day on the river bank. His lips were ruby red, parted, breathing hard, eyes black with a tight ring of gray around them. His cock was limp and there was come on his slacks that were pushed to mid-thigh, as well as the Porsche's steering wheel. 

"I want to taste you too," Clark said, dragging a finger through a line of come that rested on his creamy thigh. 

"Cl-" he watched as the finger was brought to Clark's mouth. Apparently Clark liked it. He hummed. "Salty...like those sea salt caramels I like." 

"Fuck, Clark." Alarm bells swirled in his head. This farmboy was sure to be the death of him.


End file.
